Creators of a Multiverse
by theAlmostPorcupine
Summary: When Joey Drew hires Henry Stein, things start to go wrong: backgrounds move, people hear voices, and earthquakes hit single buildings. Joey Drew Studios has got to find and neutralize the problem before it's too late, and protect an ever-growing number of alternate cartoon worlds and living cartoon creations. Cross-posted from AO3. Now being rewritten.
1. Chapter 1

This is the canon that links all stories in my AO3 BATIM Multiverse series together. It contains the most convenient or relevant path to each ending as they occur. This story is being rewritten.

No CYI Endings used yet.

* * *

Chapter 1

In Which Joey Meets a Problem

Joey Drew Jr. couldn't imagine a problem bigger than keeping his father's company afloat while the cartoon industry was floundering in the United States, but he met him by chance. Not that he had any way of recognizing the man sitting in line for a loan consultation at Heritage Bank at 10:58AM that Monday morning.

He ignored him at first, too engrossed in dabbing his carrot-colored tie with damp paper towels, but the black ink was staying in the fabric.

"Need some help? Here, you keep it." The stranger was offering him a bottle with a black cap, his blue eyes glinting as if with some joke he kept from Joey. Ink remover.

Joey accepted the bottle. "Surprising to find someone carrying something like this around."

"I'm an animator. Or I was. I worked for Animation Tent."

Raising his eyebrows, Joey glanced up from his tie. The man beside him was glaring at a marble pillar. "Wasn't that several states away?"

"I had nothing to do with it." The man gripped the edge of the bench – once of the fancy ones with its arms and legs in a ball-and-claw pattern – as though it could squish and relieve stress. With how white his knuckle's were, Joey could bet the same pressure applied to his wheelchair would pop a tire.

"Easy there. Breathe a little."

The man did. He pulled his hand back into his lap, leaving behind a slight mark. "Sorry. I had nothing to do with it, but the activists were happy to jump on another cult. My reputation's trashed."

Joey tapped his chin. "Animator. Cult. And I think I'd remember a name if you'd turned in a suspicious application to my company. You Henry Ross?"

Henry's eyes widened. "You work with cartoons?"

Joey held out a hand. "Joey Drew. Welcome home."

Instead of shaking his hand, Henry held his away. He glared at Joey. "It's Stein. Same as my grandfather's."

Joey glanced up the bench. Henry was in line directly before him, and there were two people in line ahead of Henry. At this rate, he had forty minutes to convince him to let him into his life. "I've heard you're a very talented artist. It's a pity."

Henry was watching a fly crawl across the wall. "Be quiet."

Joey let him have a moment. He listened to the clock over the entrance doors tick off the seconds. "I can see bits of my sister-"

"She was not your sister!"

The other patrons glanced their way. Joey put on a smile and waited until he lost their eyes. "Alright then. I can see bits of your mother in you. You've got her eyes and ears, and your hair's the same dirty blond. I looked up to her until she moved out." He frowned. "Was?"

"Three months ago. Thanks to your dad."

Joey blinked. "How? He's been dead almost a year now! He didn't leave a curse on her he couldn't break, did he?"

"A Drew breaking curses. That's a good one." Henry scooted closer to the other patrons, but his eyes remained on Joey, taking a peek toward his empty pockets before they settled on watching his hands.

"I'm not going to hurt you."

Henry kept staring. He jumped as Joey pulled the soiled towels away from his tie.

Joey showed him what was in his hands. "It's okay. It's just from the ink. I was trying some new designs for Alice and Scratch last night. I didn't realize I'd spilled until I got here."

Finally, Henry's eyes moved away, but they stopped on the loan office door and his lips were shut.

Joey grabbed his wheels and set them at a better angle to speak to Henry. "I don't know who you've got, but you're my last relation still alive."

"The answer is no." Henry crossed his arms. "I wasn't lying to you earlier."

Had he heard correctly? Joey tilted his head. "Henry, I haven't asked anything of you."

Henry shook his head.

"Do you really want to avoid an uncle you've never met that badly?"

If the flames in Henry's glare were real, the blaze would jump to that wooden door with the INTEREST AND LOANS sign and consume it within five seconds. "I'm not that desperate to remain an artist, Drew."

Joey laughed. "Who said anything about you working for me? Weren't you just telling me how bummed you are about it? What self-respecting animation company is going to hire you?"

Henry bared his teeth, reminding Joey of a predator.

Thirty-six minutes. He could try again a bit later.

Joey sat up in his chair, balled up the paper towels, and tossed them toward a trash can. They hit the rim and bounced off. He had to ask someone to throw them away properly for him.

When he leaned back, his neck hairs were prickling.

Henry's eyes were on him.

"What?"

Henry looked away.

Joey put a hand on his nephew's shoulder and leaned as close as he could. "If you did want a second chance, I'm going to need more animators once this loan goes through. But you leave your magic behind. Understand?"

It took Henry a moment to shut his jaw. "You don't want me to summon demons for you?"

His brows raised, Joey checked Henry's face for any common tells. But he was blinking just enough, pupils dilated; and his brows were raised just enough that Joey found no trace of deception. The closest the other man had gotten to meeting a demon was looking in a mirror at that sharp widow's peak of his, wasn't it? Joey offered his hand again. "Can you forgive me for ever doing it myself?"

"I had nothing to do with it." Henry shook Joey's hand. "So why apply for a loan at these rates?"

* * *

There was an earthquake that night, just strong enough to wake Henry. He opened his eyes to an uncapped pen rolling off his desk, straight toward his nose.

He snatched it in mid-air and set it in his pen holder. As he lay back down, he grumbled, "I didn't miss this."

He forgot about it until he came out for breakfast, where Mr. and Mrs. Underwood, old friends of his mother's, were sitting around eggs and toast, watching the morning news. A thin anchor in a green suit was explaining that there was a fifty percent chance that there would be storm clouds overhead, and the Underwoods were complaining that the channel hadn't mentioned any earthquake.

As Henry grabbed a piece of toast to eat on his way out the door, Mrs. Underwood set down her glass of orange juice. "Lydia told me that there are some vacancies in the Hillwood Apartments. You can try there."

Henry grunted. Sure, those were on the way out to the dump, but they looked like they belonged there themselves: crumbling bricks, paint faded, lawn a jungle, broken windows, and just a touch of graffiti. Besides, if Joey Drew convinced him to renege for a position at his studio, he'd want something closer to there.

"What was that?"

He swallowed. "I said I'll look into it."

Mr. Underwood cocked an eyebrow. "That's what you wear to the dump?"

"The job hasn't started yet. I've got other business."

Outside, he found an unwelcome surprise: apples. Hard, bruised, and lying around his Honda. Others were on its roof and hood, along with dents and apple meal. A bit of juice streaked down his rear window, making a mess of his temporary license plate and filling the car's preexisting scratches.

The sickly-sweet smell burned Henry's nostrils.

He knocked the apples off the hood and peeked at the engine, but the damage was only cosmetic. As soon as he'd rid the fruit from the rest of his car, he got in and drove to Joey Drew Studios.

The only visitor spot still available was next to a well-waxed Stutz Blackhawk, so he circled around the lot in search of any place else he could park. There was one handicapped spot and some service vehicle spots, but everywhere else was full.

He was almost to the front door when a gentleman in a well-pressed black suit strode out, nose in the air, and pulled the Stutz keys from his pocket.

Henry hurried inside. He found himself in a foyer where a red-headed man was examining some spinning gears on the wall. "Excuse me. I have an appointment with Joey Drew?"

The man gestured toward an elevator without turning around. "His office is on the third floor, past HR. He's probably lost in his books by now."

Henry went and found him easily.

Joey was not lost in his books. Instead, he was involved with looking over group sketches.

Henry wanted to get his attention by clearing his throat, but some tune that was bouncy and a little spooky was leaking through the ceiling. Instead, he called the other man's name.

Joey grinned. "You're here!" He put the sketches down and pulled a stapled packet out instead, and the two of them spoke business.

In the end, Henry took Joey's offer, and Joey took him for a tour of the studio immediately.

He started with the characters, most of whom Henry was already familiar with. There was an angel named Alice, a wolf named Boris, and the studio's most popular villain – a demon named Scratch. There were also several characters that Henry had been unaware had names, like Woolly the Sheep, and Gutsy the Skeleton.

As Joey gestured for Henry to follow him out the door, he started talking about the project he was hired on for – an ambitious break-in to the world of VHS. Joey wanted samples of Henry's work before deciding where in the project to put him, but he did show Henry around the art and writing departments.

* * *

When Joey looked through Henry's portfolio, he let out a whistle. "If Animation Tent relied on your talent rather than dabbling in the occult, maybe they'd still have a future."

Henry snorted. "How would backgrounds alone save a failing company?"

Joey turned to the last page in the packet, and his eyes widened. "You've got good taste."

Henry had drawn the studio's foyer, and his sketch was somewhere between realism and a simple cartoon – there was detail, but the lines were too thick for life; the lighting was perfectly captured with the hard light radiating from the overhead fixtures and soft morning light coming in through the windows, but the walls and floor were only one hue of yellow at their base; and although Joey could picture the reels on the far wall moving, he knew for a fact that they didn't read ACME Productions.

The man's response was a smile. "So what are you having me do?"

"There are two things I want you to focus on right now. One – our debut episode for the VHS series is an object lesson about not messing with magic. I want you to dream up a hell for it. Two – we're going to need a new character for this episode. Someone who can help Alice out of hell. Think you can do it?"

Henry shuffled. "Characters?"

"Why not? You draw beautifully!" Joey went back through the portfolio until he reached a page that showed a street full of see-through specters flying overhead, humorous faces glowing in pumpkins, and little legs that stuck out from under capes and bed sheets.

Standing tall to the side was a man in a pin-stripe tuxedo and a shiny red vest. Horns poked through his black hair, and claws sliced the fingertips off his white gloves. His fingers were posed as though they'd just snapped, and a jet of flame climbed the space over his hand.

But Henry pointed to a lack of face on one of the specters. "Because that's the only character I've ever thought up in my life – and I was a kid at the time. This scene is one of my childhood memories. My father dressed up as a magician and took us out trick-or-treating. He terrified the neighbor kids with his fire trick and had his own kids so scared we were expecting ghosts to show up."

"Sounds like quite the prankster." Joey leaned back.

Henry was scowling. "The point is I don't have the right imagination for a character."

"You don't have to. It's one of the tricks in this industry – get an actor to pose for you and draw them as if they were Hades or something."

The scowl didn't budge.

Joey handed Henry's portfolio back to him. "Tell you what: focus on hell itself for now. We can ease you into character design later."

"Right. Focus on hell. I can do that." Henry trudged out, his nails tearing at the edges of his rolled-up sketches.

* * *

_Next time:_

_Take notice._

_Question of the week:_

_Who is your favorite cartoon villain?_

_Disclaimer:_

_This is a fanfic of Bendy and the Ink Machine and is not an official part of the franchise in any way._


	2. Chapter 2

_Last time:_

_Henry and Joey's relationship has a rough start, but Henry agrees to work for Joey. There are some odd things going on, but Henry gets to work showing Joey what he can do. Joey asks him to do something he think he can't – create characters._

_CYI endings used: Chapter 127_

_Cheat path:_

_1 Know that you're Henry_

_2 Climb the boards_

_3 Break the boards_

_4 Have moderate luck on your roll_

_5 Choose the left_

_6 Follow the link_

_7 Climb an elevator shaft_

_8 Look for the artist_

_9 Look for more messages_

_10 See a message about a family_

_11 Make a wish_

_12 Dance for Boris_

_13 You have a radio, so you can click the right link_

_14 Find Alice_

_15 Follow the link_

* * *

Chapter 2

In Which Hell is Used Car Lots

Once he asked for his desk in the art department, it was time to make his own hell. Henry got some fresh paper and took it back to his middle-of-the-room.

His neck hairs stood up, so he looked around. The room was filled with scratching pens and busy coworkers, but no one was looking his way. Why did he get the feeling he was being watched?

Henry took a breath and scribbled it out as an idea: plenty of places where demons can hide and watch you. Eyes? Maybe. Shadows and boulders? Yes. Storm clouds?

For five minutes, he sat and brainstormed. For five minutes, he wrote notes on flames and scorch marks and lava and pictures of volcanoes that he thought he could work with. But after five minutes, a chubby man ran in, yelling about a fire extinguisher and a parking lot.

Henry joined the crowd heading outside. He jostled down the stairs and squeezed through the studio's side door.

There was a pillar of smoke rising from the far end of the parking lot, over where he'd parked. He shoved his way to the asphalt and ran.

It was his car on fire. The heat pressed to his sweat-drenched shirt. The smell of melting plastic assaulted his nose. Where was that fire extinguisher?

The chubby man caught up and aimed the hose.

Henry lifted the hot hood and let him douse the fire from his engine.

The man foamed the car up and threw the empty extinguisher into a now-empty stall with a clang. Grumbling, he stormed into a forest-green car on the far side of Henry's and revved the engine. He backed out with squelching breaks.

Shaking the last of the heat from his fingers, Henry turned his head away from the other car to look inside his engine instead. He bailed the foam, but the car was gummed up. "Hell is used car lots."

He'd have to bum a ride home, but for the time being, he called his insurance company and moved his sketching outside. He relaxed in the cool air, flicking the occasional spider away from his canvas.

His hell was still simple, but it had a flat stretch that he could add car-sized boulders to and a still-smoking scorch mark. By the end of the work day, he had a blackened ground on which demons scorched their prey, hiding among a jagged landscape, sharp canyons, and skull-like homes. Smoke drifted across the landscape and lava bubbled down in the rivers.

* * *

Over the next week, Joey had his nephew design several more hellish settings. Sometimes the buildings had windows broken from either side, glass shattered against grounds and floors. Sometimes there were scorch marks where the bottom of something-or-other lay outlined in the ashes, and Joey could practically feel the embers. But always, there were shadows and hints of a presence that had Joey's skin crawling.

With his own work, his hand flew across panels, page after page of crisp paper stacking up until he was ready to present a preliminary storyboard. He asked his nephew to help him set up for a project meeting.

They cleared off a rolling bulletin board and put the story board across the top. They took a second one and pinned copies of Henry's hell to it.

As Joey was putting up a scene of a mountainous mansion, he shuddered: had he just seen rock and ash dropping from a slope? He pointed to the paper. "How did you draw this one?"

Henry glanced at it. "Oh that? I recently read an article about a monastery in the Himalayas, so I brought in reference photos, changed the temple to a palace and all the snow to flame."

Joey peered at the palace. Did it always have that patch of black on its roof, or was he just imagining things?

"Everything alright?"

He pinched his nose. "I must have worked harder on the storyboard than I thought. I've got to get some good rest this weekend."

* * *

Henry moved into an apartment that weekend – the Glenn. One bedroom. One bathroom. Barely one hundred square feet. The walls were scratched and the linoleum smelled of cat, but he'd make do. With enough Pine-Sol, maybe the stench would come out.

He waved goodbye to the Underwoods and unpacked his half-a-box of dishes.

No food. No cleaning supplies. No sheets for the mattress lying on the bedroom floor. He'd have to go shopping, and with his car in the shop, he'd have to take a bus.

He locked up and walked four blocks through muggy, gang-tagged streets to the bus stop and spent another half hour hanging from a ring to reach the Target. He made it a quick stop for plain white sheets and made his way across the street to the Albertsons. He grabbed a basket. Bread. Beans. Milk.

When he went for his eggs, they were blocked by a cart and a four-foot-eleven blonde. "Excuse me."

The blonde turned her head. Her eyes widened. "Aren't you the guy from the bank?"

His cheeks warmed. "I don't normally act that way."

"We all have off days." She clasped her hands together. "I just wanted to ask, is it true they summoned a demon? You'd think something bad would have happened by now."

Henry swallowed. "Yeah, they summoned one. I don't know what happened with it."

"Do you think it might have followed you?" The woman turned her head away.

So did Henry. His eyes scanned the aisle – everywhere from the pale light overhead to a spider crawling under the shelves.

"A demon. Here. In our town."

His skin erupted with chills, and he swore under his breath.

The blonde met his eyes, the color reminding him of the soot in his engine.

He hadn't meant to spook her.

Excusing himself, he reached for some eggs. On his way from the aisle, he spotted the man with the Blackhawk.

Blondie ran straight up to him.

Summoning a demon to scare the populace? That wasn't an artist's way. He was only in it to bring the joy that makes folks human.

* * *

Joey's plans for his Sunday included lounging around in his bathrobe and reading the morning paper, but it didn't take long for his thoughts to turn to his nephew: on an inner page was an article _FORMER ANIMATION TENT CEO FOUND DEAD_.

His heart started beating against his ribs. His grip tightened on the thin pages.

Former Animation Tent CEO Larry Ruth was found dead on the backseat of an abandoned taxi Friday evening, lying part-clothed, mouth hanging open, mascara marks on his cheek. Investigations are on-going, but autopsy confirms the death was not of a violent cause.

It may not have been the most detailed article, but it was enough for Joey to grab his phone from the counter. His stomach threatened to spew liquid to match the yellow of his phone as he realized he didn't have his nephew's number. Nor did he have his address.

Cursing to himself, he grabbed clothes, not caring if the button-up didn't go with the sweatpants, wheeled out his apartment, down the hall, and took the lift to the ground floor. Only two blocks to get himself to the studio and it was far too many.

Even when he got to the studio, it wasn't Henry who answered the number on his file – some Mr. Underwood, who didn't have Henry's new line.

Joey made phone call after phone call, but nothing came of anything. He had to go home and squeeze into the second bedroom he used as a closet – the one with the barren walls and the dark, ink-stained machine hogging the space and devouring his electricity.

He pressed a button to turn on the display. Status: Running. Interact with instance?

Yes.

The screen showed a river of black, hardly any light glinting off it. Was anyone around at all? "Hello?" he called. "Dad? Mr. or Mrs. Stein? Luke?"

Something whispered. Joey strained his ears to make out _he wants the Storyteller. _He waited a moment and the ink bubbled. Out rose a middle-aged human Toon sitting in a rocking chair – what was left of his father.

"Joey?"

Joey placed his hand to the machine's warm metal. "How do I banish a demon I didn't summon?"

The Storyteller looked as though he'd taken a bite of dog poo. "Do you know who did?"

"I know of at least one – he's dead – but it might have been a group effort."

_Creeaaak._ It shouldn't have been possible with the chair half-submerged in ink, but the sound came from the Storyteller leaning forward in it. "Any connection to you?"

"Not that I know of, but it's been _here_ too!"

The Storyteller stood. His chair sunk back into the ink. "Here as in your apartment?"

"Not since I put up those stronger wards you taught me, but Henry-"

A clawed hand surfaced from the ink. A pie-eyed demon popped its face out. "What about me?"

The Storyteller turned and put his hand back into the blackness, as though to put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm glad you still remember your name, old friend, but my son wasn't talking about you. Did I tell you that your grandson is working for him now?"

Henry narrowed his eyes at the Storyteller. "You told me Bor- Luke is eight. Who would he have a son with?"

"Not through Luke. Through your daughter, who survived that day."

Henry's eyes closed. His mouth pressed into a flat line. He put a glove to the side of his head.

"Do you remember?"

Slowly, Henry opened an eye. "My name is Scratch." He closed his eyes again and shook his head. "No, I _know_ you're telling the truth. My name is Henry. I think…" Henry's mouth opened for a large breath. "My daughter, did she like the water rides?"

"Yes, that's her." The Storyteller wrapped his arm around the other Toon's shoulders and lifted him from the ink. He stumbled forward with a clip-clip-clop, ink dripping back to the mass from his suit and vest.

The Storyteller looked back toward the display. "You were saying?"

"Henry's car caught fire the other day."

"Is he alright?" Scratch's features had never looked tamer than they did on Henry – wide-eyed, tail curled around himself, fangs digging into his lower lip. It was almost though he were a worried monkey rather than a demon, but Joey supposed it wasn't fair to call him a demon when he had a human soul inside.

Joey forced a smile. "He wasn't in the car at the time."

"And now?"

"I don't know." Though Scratch wouldn't be able to see Joey's trembling hands from inside the machine, he pressed them to his lap to hold them still. "Don't have his number, but it looks like the demon left town for a bit."

The Storyteller released his grip on Scratch. "Why don't you go tell Linda? We'll keep you updated."

Scratch frowned. He stayed floating on the ink and glared at his friend.

"You're not going to like this any better than you liked hearing that I sent you and your family to the real hell, alright? We'll keep you updated."

"You better."

Scratch sank, and the Storyteller watched the ink silently for a minute. Finally, he leaned toward the display. "Look, Joey, do you think he's involved?"

He leaned into the machine. "I don't know. He says he's not, but I'm not so sure about that. I promised him-"

"Promise? What good is a promise if you don't intend to keep it? You swore you wouldn't put up with any more magic at our studio!"

"I'm not putting up with it! I promised Henry I'd give him a chance only if he didn't bring magic there." His hand yanked the hair at the back of his head. "I don't know what to think. He looks suspicious, but he didn't trust me because of _my_ summoning a demon. I just suspect something's after him. How do I get rid of it?"

"Back out."

Joey startled upright. "What?"

His father crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow, as he often had when he dared Joey to challenge him again without hearing him out. "Back out. Send him someplace holy instead. It's safer for everyone."

"I promised him another chance to be an animator. How do I get rid of a demon I didn't summon?"

The Storyteller shook his head.

"Dad!"

His father's chair emerged from the ink, and the Storyteller went back to sitting. "If Henry helped summoned it, it's easiest for him to be the one to send him back."

And that was anything but easy. The summoner would need to feel true regret for seeking a demon's power to send it back to hell, have a change of heart sincere enough to last the rest of their life. Henry seemed more defensive than haunted.

But he was his nephew. Could Joey forgive himself for summoning demons if he didn't forgive him for doing the same? "If that's not an option?"

"No." The Storyteller started sinking back into the ink. "It's much easier to beckon someone from hell than to take them there without going yourself."

He wasn't going to tell him how to vanquish the demon, was he? "I won't then! But Henry might still be innocent. What do I do then?"

The Storyteller stopped, only his face sticking out from the ink – just his nose, eyes, and mouth. Even his brows were submerged. "If he's innocent, a church should sort it out quickly and he can get back to drawing. Otherwise, he will have to get rid of the demon himself."

"How can I tell which he is?"

The moment the words left Joey's mouth, he thought he knew what his answer would be: to send Henry to the church. But what came out was "You'll have to put yourself in a position to notice any magic around him. Come back and tell me what you observe."

* * *

When Joey went to work the next day, he arrived before Henry, but Henry's sample art was still in his office, and Joey saw it from the corner of his eye – motion. A closer look showed volcanic ash sweeping across Henry's landscape, and not just in the impression it gave off.

Magic.

* * *

_Next time:_

_Spiders._

_Question of the week:_

_What would be the most terrifying aspect of a possessed Henry?_


	3. Bonus Chapter 1

Henry needed to get this off his chest, and he didn't care who caught him. What would he draw anyway, another demonic spider to cling to the ceiling?

He tore a page from his sketchbook and turned it like a portrait.

_Something happened. The demon hasn't taken over, but Joey thinks I'm possessed. But really, what else could I be?_

The chair pushed its stiffness into his butt. He shifted, but he couldn't get comfortable.

He glared at his little paragraph. "This won't do. What if it grabs control?"

With a frown, he scratched the words out.

_Joey,_

_If something happens to me, there are some things I need you to know._

_I don't know if it's true, but I hear striking a deal with a demon always ends poorly for the summoner, who almost always loses their soul. I promise you don't have to worry about that with me – I'm one of those people unfortunate to be close enough to suffer collateral damage. Do what you have to do. If I lose myself, I'm okay with losing my life too._

_Here are the demons I know about:_

_1 Scratch. Have to keep a bit of hope somehow. Did your dad give him the same weaknesses as the real thing?_

_2 The demon Larry summoned. I wish I could tell you more about what to look out for, because the only thing I have to guess is that it's responsible for some of that weird stuff that's been happening around me. I'd imagine it's what killed him too._

_3 The demon inside me. If you were right when you were implying that I picked it up during childhood, I don't know how it got there or why I'm still in control of my body. I can't say that I don't think it's responsible for the rest of the weirdness. It's like it's getting stronger._

_4 Bendy →_

Henry drew a little cartoon imp on his list, just a sketch, not a fully developed character. He knew the name, and that the little guy had two horns, no nose, and a big mouth, but he couldn't see the specifics.

_He's a cartoon that popped into my head, and I can't get him out of it. I don't have enough experience designing characters for this to be anything but supernatural. Even if I did, the fact that he's a demon makes me nervous._

_Summoners I know about:_

_1 Your dad. Enough said._

_2 You. I hope it's true that you've put it behind you. You're my only chance at getting out of this. In any case, thank you for everything._

_3 Larry Ruth. I'm still upset with him for dragging my reputation down the drain, but if he'd started haunting you and demanding stuff in that creepy Demontongue, what would you have done? I promised I'd get his killer._

_4 My dad. Since this whole thing started, the more I look back on it, the less I see a way he could not have been involved with demons. For as long as I remember, he kept doing those theatrics with summoning flame with a snap of his fingers, and he was capable of other strange stuff too. His attitude toward the neighbors was blasé, he kept referring to the monsters of the stories as his servants, and he saw those ghosts on Halloween too. I'm concerned that he dragged me into it. If I've ever summoned a demon, it was with him, and I was too young to remember._

_Symptoms_

_I don't know what knew developments to expect. All I know of the limits of demonic power is that it's second to heavenly power. But, to date, I've seen:_

_1) Fire. I'm not sure it was the demon inside me. It might have been the one Larry summoned, giving me grief for catching a glimpse of the ritual._

_2) Dealing with the dead. I've seen ghosts twice._

_3) Outbursts. I haven't been as calm as I usually am lately. I've been chalking it up to all the stress of walking in on a summoning and losing my job and reputation, but maybe there's more to it._

_4) Controlling spiders. I don't know which demon is responsible for this._

_5) Causing transformations. My demon's turned stuff to ink._

_6)_

Henry's breakfast threatened to ruin his letter. He took a few moments to set his pen down and cover his mouth with his hands.

He took slow breaths, but he could still taste it in his memory – sweet like a Hershey's bar. He had to put his list away and head to the break room for some mediocre coffee.

It took an hour for him to calm down, but nobody bothered him out of the break room. Joey must have said something. Why not just send him home? Did he need to keep an eye on him?

Maybe he'd ask for something to take his mind off things, just after he finished his letter. He uncapped his pen and resumed writing at 6).

_Some weird sensory experiences. When Larry showed up, he smelled like chocolate. After we shook on our deal, he was gone and I tasted chocolate. Do you think the demon possessing me could have eaten him?_

_7) Physical stuff – demonic strength and my hands acting as though they had claws._

_8) Telekinesis. So far, those papers stuck to your ceiling is the only example of this._

Henry folded up the paper and wrote _to Joey _on the outside.


	4. Bonus Chapter 2

Joey spent his lunch break reporting the happenings with Henry to his dad.

The Storyteller frowned. "That story lines up until Animation Tent. Wouldn't he be an empty shell with a demon inside it by the time Ruth did that summoning? The demon ought to have been summoned out of the body, and Henry's corpse left lying on the ground."

"Then what do you-"

"But if the demon was sealed in there, that's a different story." The Storyteller hung his head. "Did I ever tell you that one of my books went missing?"

He hadn't. Joey peeked around the Ink Machine to count the number of thick spines stacked in the corner. Twelve. Same as always. "Must have been some time ago. What was the book about?"

"It was about some unusual arrangements demons made with humans. There was nothing in there to teach you any spells or how to summon a demon, so I didn't think it mattered. Maybe. I don't suppose we could get it back? It's _The Illusion of Humanity_."

Assuming his brother-in-law still had the book, he'd need to track the man down. He might need Henry's help to do so. And asking him? How did Henry feel about his father anyway?

Joey groaned. "I'll try, but it might be difficult. And there's a demon in Henry right now. What do we do in the meantime?"

"Has the demon spoken to Henry?"

He wouldn't think so.

"We'll need to teach Henry a little Demontongue, just in case. Just enough to tell his demon _no _or to send off the one from Animation Tent."

That… was a very good idea, actually.

* * *

Once Joey was in his office, he got a clean sheet of paper and started thinking about the main words Henry might need to know.

* * *

**Basic Demontongue Vocabulary**

Animation Tent – if a demon comes up to you and starts talking about it, I don't know what they would call it in their language. Names in Demontongue are usually some combination of description and insult, but they should recognize the English name if you ask them.

Blood – _Sunu._ It sounds like "sue noo," like we should sue whoever summoned the new demon who wants to drink blood.

Body/Vessel – _Emx._ This is a harder word to pronounce. It's "eh," and then the next syllable is a hum and that sound at the end of _loch_. If you don't get it, most demons will understand what you mean if you say "emk." Doesn't mean they won't mock you for it.

Death – Demons like to make death threats when they don't get their way. There are three common ways they make these, from easiest to survive to most difficult to survive:

1 _Xryuts_ –"Give me the chance to watch you die (painfully) (at my hands)." Sounds a bit like "crew" and "ts." This is usually used as part of a deal. Sometimes, all you have to do to get out of it is refuse the deal, but most of the time, you should run anyway.

2 _Nnuu_ – "Death!" Rhymes with "boo." Almost always a judgment for going against their "morality." Be warned: they consider it immoral for us lesser beings not to be entertaining enough.

3 _Swuut'yem_ \- "I'm going to kill you." Sounds like "swooch 'em." Demons say this just for fun. If they do, get as far away as you can.

Goat/Human – _Muunu_. Sounds like "moo noo" This is one to be careful with. If a demon is demanding this, they want to eat something, and they don't see much difference between eating a goat and eating a human. If it's a human the demon is going to eat, run. If it's a goat, you're probably best off just letting the demon eat one.

Ink Machine – _Yasunskiku_. Sounds like "yah soon chic coo." This is something my dad left behind. If a demon mentions this to you, tell me right away, got it? Come to think of it, you encounter a demon at all, you tell me.

Anyway, they might also mention to you some form of _t'siyaa _(chee yah). This may also talking about the machine. Tell them _t'siyaa__n!_(chee yawn) and come tell me.

No – Demons don't actually have this word, but they have plenty of ways to refuse and forbid. The two ways that will come in most helpful to you are:

1) _Kr._ This is Demontongue for "I refuse." Use it when a demon tells you to do something or offers to make you a deal. If you can't say it, just growl – a growl is basically what the word is anyway.

2) Claiming something as your own. This isn't too bad to learn compared to other features of the language – just the root and _one _of three suffixes, conjugated predictably down below.

Revenge – _Nnuuaet'_. Sounds like "new at," just like how I'm suspicious about how new at magic Larry Ruth claimed to be in that paper. If that's true, how did he know to approach the demon inside of you for revenge?

Soul – _Yaa._ The word sounds a bit like a scream.

**Basic Demontongue Grammar**

Claims:

Start with a noun. For instance, _sunu_.

If it's your blood, add a hiss at the end to warn demons off. The double 's' here means to draw that hiss out. _Sunu "__blood"__ → Sunuss "__That's __my blood_."

If the demon is after both your blood and other people's, you'll have to claim their blood for them too. Do this by adding an 'n' instead of a double 's.' _Sunu "blood" → Sunun "__That's __our blood."_

If the demon is after someone else's blood, you'll have to claim it as it being yours now (unless you've previously claimed it, then use _sunuss_). Do this by adding 'ts." _Sunu "blood" → Sunuts "That's my blood now." _The construction is also used to mean "give me" – and especially "give me yours" – so watch out for demons demanding things like _yaats_ or _emxts_.

There might be a slight change of consonant with any of these forms, but they should be recognizable in context.

If you do convince the demons to leave something alone, listen for a _"kr"_ in front of the "-ss" or "-n" form (like _krem__sk _or "kremsh"for "that's not my body"). It's how you know they're backing off.

Commands

Your best chance at recognizing these without actually learning the language is to listen to the tone.

Deals

Luckily, these are easier to spot than the commands. At least with the standard pattern: first, the demon or whoever will demand whatever they want out of the deal, usually with "give me;" and then they'll state what they're willing to do for you. It's always best to refuse.


	5. Chapter 3

_Last time:_

_After Henry loses his car in a fire, other signs of the supernatural appear, such as Henry's drawings moving by themselves. While he is out grocery shopping, a member of the community asks about the possibility of a demon being in their town._

_On Sunday, Joey talks to the residents of the Ink Machine about Henry._

* * *

Chapter 3

In Which Henry Makes a Deal

Monday morning, Henry found Joey sitting in front of his desk, a packet of beaten papers in his boss's hands and a blank page of sketch paper set out for him.

He supposed it was time to design a character? Well, as long as he got to talk to Joey.

As Henry got seated, the two barely had time to exchange pleasantries because Joey's eyes were fixed on Henry, and his neck hairs stood as they would if anyone else was staring at him. "What?"

"Nothing." Joey flipped through the pages in his packet.

Henry saw several existing characters' model sheets, but he wasn't interested enough to watch his boss instead of getting his pencils out. He had a single sliding drawer under his desk where he could keep his supplies, and the moment he got it open, a hoard of spiders ran out like a living black rug. One tickled its silky legs across his hand and up his sleeve.

He yelped.

A rolled-up packet knocked the spider off his sleeve. Joey whacked at a few spiders that remained on the desk. Most scattered, but he got one whose corpse lay on the corner.

Henry swallowed. "I don't remember this city having so many spiders."

"The city?" Joey asked, reaching for something in his pocket. "Not the studio? I was about to say we need a good exterminator, but if you've been seeing a lot of them, maybe I should suggest someone to get rid of them for you?"

It wasn't that Henry had seen a lot of them, not until he opened the desk. He doubted that an exterminator could help when the problem was that he kept seeing them anywhere he went, and so he shook his head.

"You sure?"

He wrapped his hand around his pencil set and glanced at Joey.

Joey's lips were flat and his eyebrows were low, and Henry could only think of one reason why he would be giving him that look. "I didn't do it, but I did see the summoning in progress. Do you think something might have followed me?"

Joey relaxed into his chair. "Any church should have an exorcist."

A church? Sure. But no.

Henry could imagine the scene on the sketch paper: a towering building with a letter-board out front proclaiming damnation.

He took a breath to steady his hand. "So how do we design a character?"

"Let's get you warmed up first. Draw just the outline for any of our characters."

Henry scritched Sratch onto the paper – at least in terms of drawing where the head, the body, and the hands and feet should be. He added the curving horns on too.

And then he peered at Joey. "You've summoned demons before, right? How did you get rid of them?"

Joey frowned. "If you didn't summon it, you've got to go to a church."

"Right." Henry glared at the group of circles that represented Scratch. Pointing his paper toward them, he asked, "Now what?"

"Do it again. Without any distinguishing characteristics."

As Henry traced circles, Joey was scratching something down.

He raised his eyebrow. "Am I being evaluated?"

"Your art's fine. Just promise me you'll go to a church."

Henry snorted. He kept his mouth shut as he finished his latest group of circles.

Joey scooted close enough to prod the dead spider with a white ball-pen, which he did. He turned the spider around so that its fanged mouth and multitude of eyes were facing Henry, legs spread out, one lost in the process. It lay bent like a stray hair on the light wood. "I haven't seen this type of spider before. I don't think it's from around here."

His skin crawling, Henry stared at the spider. "Do I have to keep that thing on my desk?"

"You don't have to, but if we're easing you into character design, it might make a convenient reference for you."

Henry pointed his pencil toward the corpse. "You want me to make that into a cartoon character?"

"Just give it a try." Joey, with his pen, cut another leg off the spider, making it symmetrical. "Here, I've simplified it for you." He put his pen away, tore off the back page of the packet, and set the rest of it on Henry's desk, turned to a page with basic proportions.

It only needed a few glances for Henry to proportion a face. Now how to make the spider a character?

As he worked, he stuck his tongue between his teeth. Only two eyes for the cartoon version. Maybe some fat lips and some fangs.

"Good. We just need some contrast between the face and the rest of the head and we might have the start of a usable character."

Smiling, Henry asked, "What sort of character were we needing to lead Alice out of hell?"

"A friendly spider is a possibility." Joey leaned on his armrest. "I don't suppose you've seen this sort of spider before? Maybe one got in a moving box?"

No, but Henry knew what Joey was going to say if he didn't say something first. "Going to a church isn't really an option. I don't suppose I could get you to banish the demon?"

But Joey refused with a scowl on his face, giving an outline of his reasons. "I'm assuming Larry Ruth summoned it? Do you know if there was anyone else?"

There wasn't.

"Then I only know one way to get rid of it."

Henry tightened his grip on his pencil. Snap! The top half bounced off the desk where the corpse once was. Even the detached legs were gone. He stared. "Where'd it go?"

"The demon?"

He jabbed a finger toward the desk. "The spider's demonic, isn't it?"

Joey pulled backward on Henry's chair. It shuddered and scraped against the floor. "Church. Now."

Slowly, Henry got to his feet. Glaring at the spider he'd drawn, he picked it up and handed it to Joey. "Here, I'll see you in two hours or so."

Henry left the building for bright sunshine and moist, sea-drifted air, but the place he went was first to a flower shop, where he bought two red roses, and then to a cemetery. He passed years of markers and crosses – even a new bench engraved with angels. It wasn't near enough his sisters' graves to be his seat during his visit, but he made the fresh-cut grass fill the role.

A deep breath awarded him the rose fragrance as he placed his sisters' flowers in their holding cup. He wrapped his hand around the edge of the cold headstone and closed his eyes.

"It hurt. Didn't it? Did you forgive him? Him or Dad?" He paused. "It's been awhile. And now…. I don't know. Might see you soon. If things go wrong. Was it worth it? Was it better than what happened? I don't know what to do. I know what Joey says. I wish you could help me out here."

When Henry opened his eyes, he saw something etched lightly on the stone below his sisters' names. A pentagram.

Had that always been there?

Eyes wide, he touched it. His fingertips tingled.

Chocolate tickled his nostrils, and something cold brushed against his ear. _"Nnuuae__t's__ kryaassem."_

He turned his head. Silver smoke was circling from the ground to the air, and in it was pressed the large nose and high brows of Larry Ruth. The specter was tilting its head and staring at Henry.

He bolted.

He whipped down the cemetery rows and didn't look back until he reached his car.

Larry was a spot back by the twins' graves.

Henry hurried up the block, past well-cut lawns and tall houses. He stopped under the bus stop sign and fished warm metal coins from his pockets.

"Henry."

He tensed. When he looked over his shoulder, he took off running again.

* * *

Joey may have sent Henry to a church, but his drawings were still moving. The grounds were shaking, the rocks were falling, and the volcano was filling the page with thick black ink.

The samples had to go. Joey wheeled around his office, collecting Henry's work from his clanking filing cabinets and his shelves. He piled them all on top of the cartoon spider on his desk. He opened a drawer, took out a box of paperclips, and just as he was fastening the magic mess together, Sammy Lawrence burst in.

Joey pounded his fist to his desk, laughter coming from his chest: Sammy always reminded him of the banjo he played, but at the moment, he was an ink-stained version of the instrument – from the streaks across his black-striped tie to the splatters on his round stomach. "Whoever pranked you this time, remind me to go easy on them. I needed a good laugh."

"Prank?" Sammy slammed a soaked banjo in front of Joey. "I was waxing my banjo and what happens? The wax I just put on the instrument turns to ink! Same with the wax on the cloth and the wax in the bottle. It coats the strings, runs across the tension hoop, and soaks the head. It even weakened the dowel stick to the point that it sagged. You owe me a Yamaha."

"You mean there's magic at my studio?" Joey slapped a hand over his face and peeked through his fingers. "You wouldn't have crossed Henry, would you?"

The moment Joey said the name, Sammy scowled. "He ran in and demanded we blast the amps in the middle of rehearsal. Then he tried to hide behind Derril's tuba. If you're saying he's the one who did this, you've got to sort him out."

Joey agreed. Burying his face in his hands, he asked Sammy to bring Henry to him.

Sammy left, but he didn't get the chance to bring Henry back – Henry ran in first, trembling and pressing himself behind Joey. He gripped Joey's shoulders hard enough that his nails cut into Joey's cotton top and his fingers crushed Joey's nerves. Joey hit him off.

Henry backed into a corner. "Exorcism _now!_"

"We'll call a priest over here." He turned his chair. "Did you sell your soul?"

Henry grabbed him. He pulled him from his chair, dragged him into the corner, and knelt in front of him, eyes fixed on that being only he could see. "Leave him alone!"

A demon? Here? Great. Joey growled in the direction he thought it was.

He was close enough to hear Henry gulp. "He's talking nonsense again. Does _nnu__u__aet's_ mean anything to you?"

Revenge. Henry's demon wanted revenge. "It-"

"You'll leave us in peace after that?"

Joey started to warn Henry that each new demonic deal was as dangerous as the first, but Henry was already reaching his arm out, and Joey couldn't stop him.

"Deal." On cupping an invisible hand, Henry froze. Slowly, he relaxed – stretching his legs out, leaning back against the wall, and spreading a smile across his face. He hummed. He licked his lips.

"Henry?" Joey touched his cheek. The skin was warmer than he expected, but Henry let him turn his face toward him and peer into his eyes.

Pale blue. No hint of a demon's black, red, or green.

"I wasn't expecting to be alright, but Larry's gone now."

Joey frowned. "You mean that was Larry Ruth chasing you, speaking to you in Demontongue, _and you could see him?_"

"I guess it's not the first time I've seen a ghost."

Whether Henry was guilty or not, Joey had to say he didn't know much of what was going on – he was pulling his legs toward his chest and wrapping his arms around himself. He thought he saw Henry biting his lips with his sharpest teeth, if only for a moment.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Henry said, "Still, not usual. Just that one other time. Don't know about that other stuff. Took Larry long enough to explain things in English. Said he wanted his killer taken down."

Joey hissed a word under his breath. One he would never say when being interviewed on air. "How old were you again?"

"Sorry?"

"Halloween. How old were you?"

"I don't know. Six?" Henry licked his lips again. This time, he put a hand to them. His other hand made a tearing sound against the office's bright blue carpet. Five slices cut into the tuft, and bits of the underlying padding and wood stuck out from Henry's fist. He brought the hand in front of his face and opened it up.

The debris was turning to ink and dripping from Henry's hand.

Henry yelped and shook it off. A drop of icy liquid hit Joey's wrist.

Joey grabbed Henry's shoulders.

Henry met Joey's eyes. "What's happening to me?"

"You didn't go to a church, did you? Do you want me to call an exor-"

"NO!"

The cursed papers fluttered around them, falling up rather than down. They stuck to the ceiling, arranged in a large circle.

Henry's sweat was soaking through his shirt, thick enough that it could almost have been ink itself.

Joey tightened his grip. "I can't perform an exorcism for you. I know a few wards, but they can't cover an area larger than a closet, and they won't protect people. Especially not if you're already possessed."

"No exorcist. Any other way."

And like that, Joey's stomach churned. His nephew was just scared, so there was no need for his thoughts to turn to the yellowing books locked away behind the Ink Machine. "I think we need to have a long talk. Come to my place after work."

* * *

_Next time:_

_An enchanted sleep._

_Question of the week:_

_If you could talk to anyone dead, who would it be?_


	6. Chapter 4

Last time:

Demons and ghosts chase Henry around, and he shows signs that he's been possessed since he was a child.

CYI Endings used: Chapter 217

Cheat path:

1 Know you're Henry.  
2 Walk to the exit.  
3 Talk to Sammy.  
4 Drink some soup.  
5 Have Sammy show you what he meant by "outside."  
6 Call Bendy out on his behavior.  
7 Have someone greeting you when you respawn.  
8 Go after Bendy's weakness.  
9 Ask Sammy to distract Bendy.  
10 Play "The End" and say "goodbye."

* * *

Chapter 4

In Which Dolls Glow

* * *

Joey spent his lunch break reporting the happenings with Henry to his dad.

The Storyteller frowned. "That story lines up until Animation Tent. Wouldn't he be an empty shell with a demon inside it by the time Ruth did that summoning? The demon ought to have been summoned out of the body, and Henry's corpse left lying on the ground."

"Then what do you-"

"But if the demon was sealed in there, that's a different story." The Storyteller hung his head. "Did I ever tell you that one of my books went missing?"

He hadn't. Joey peeked around the Ink Machine to count the number of thick spines stacked in the corner. Twelve. Same as always. "Must have been some time ago. What was the book about?"

"It was about some unusual arrangements demons made with humans. There was nothing in there to teach you any spells or how to summon a demon, so I didn't think it mattered. Maybe. I don't suppose we could get it back? It's _The Illusion of Humanity_."

Assuming his brother-in-law still had the book, he'd need to track the man down. He might need Henry's help to do so. And asking him? How did Henry feel about his father anyway?

Joey groaned. "I'll try, but it might be difficult. And there's a demon in Henry right now. What do we do in the meantime?"

"Has the demon spoken to Henry?"

He wouldn't think so.

"We'll need to teach Henry a little Demontongue, just in case. Just enough to tell his demon _no _or to send off the one from Animation Tent."

That… was a very good idea, actually.

* * *

Henry was wet, sticky, and jumpy that afternoon. He scrambled away whenever a coworker so much as sneezed.

It got to the point where his supervisor told him to free-draw something to calm himself.

Henry had meant to stay away from paper after the incident in Joey's office, but his fingers were itching anyway. But drawing? He knew better than to do that right now – demons, right? But what if he wrote a letter for Joey in case anything happened to him?

So he sat down and explained a little the weird stuff that had happened to him lately. He told him a little about his childhood too.

Demons.

He shivered.

He doubted they were all as cute as Scratch – not the cutest cartoon himself admittedly, but zig-zag teeth had to be cuter than whatever real demons had, covered in blood.

At least he wasn't cuter, like a little guy with a big cheeky smile and….

An image of a cuter cartoon demon popped into his head, alongside a name: _Bendy_.

That couldn't be normal, could it?

On Joey's letter, he drew a quick sketch. Not a detailed one. Just the head. Just to get Bendy out of his mind. Then he told Joey more about Larry Ross, and he told him about his dad.

And Bendy came back into his mind.

With a sigh, he got out a separate sheet of paper. As revenge, he drew Bendy looking at something above his head, biting down on a stick-figure hand. He wrote the words in a small print: Chatter. Chatter.

Having put the little demon off again, Henry turned back to Joey's letter. This time, he went into more detail about the magic happening to him.

He felt sick, so he took a coffee break that lasted a good chunk of the afternoon.

When he did return to his desk, he was able to finish Joey's letter, but Bendy was in his head again too. He sketched the character falling head-first this time. For good measure, he added little arrows beside the stick body, declaring how far Bendy had to fall.

Minutes afterward, he found himself smiling as he finished another version of Bendy's smiling face.

Stupid demon. Stupid part-possession.

He scowled. "Stop putting ideas in my head."

"Oh?"

As he turned his eyes toward the speaker, they slid over the sketch with Bendy scared of something. Had he drawn the little fellow pointing above his head? It was as though Bendy were pointing to that silky spider twice the size of the ones that morning.

"But I haven't put any ideas in your head," the spider said.

It spoke in a layered woman's voice, if it could indeed be said that it spoke – Henry hadn't seen its mandible move. It was as though the voice materialized from around the spider instead.

Henry sprung from his seat. He made a fist. Smash!

The spider's guts spread across his desk, but as he watched, the dead arachnid gathered itself together again. "How rude."

Henry wondered why Joey couldn't have just taught him something to chase off a demon, even temporarily. Now he had to call for a coworker to go get him.

Eight beady black eyes were glinting, and Henry got the impression the spider was laughing at him. _"__Oy__uk t'simyasyaet'?"_

He squashed the spider again.

When it revived this time, it was an inch longer. It crept closer. _"T'simyazyu__zh__u __uu__r__us__ye."_

Henry called for his coworkers to get the heck away from the demonic spider, and he retreated himself. He ran toward Joey's office and ran into the man himself.

"It's _talking_!"

Joey leaned to the side, peering around Henry. "What did it say?"

Henry couldn't begin to tell him. He could only mention it had been in the language that went deeper with every syllable.

Joey gestured him to the side. Glaring at the spider, he asked something in Demontongue.

The spider scuttled away.

"Hmph." Joey crossed his arms. "You're not welcome in my studio."

Henry watched the spider shrink and squeeze through a gap between a baseboard and the floor. "How did you drive it off?"

"I didn't." He didn't speak clearly though, too much attention directed to the silver watch on his wrist. "Go ahead and clock out. I'll pay you for the twenty minutes of work you'll miss. We might as well just head to my place with all the attention we've gotten around here."

Time for that? "Joey, I didn't mean to bring magic into your studio."

* * *

Joey didn't live far from the studio, and thank goodness for that. He could have driven himself before he summoned that demon, but it was out of the question now. It was nice that he didn't have to pay anyone to do that for him.

Now that it was time to show Henry to his place, he wheeled out the front door, onto a damp sidewalk. It was one of those days when the gray skyscrapers blended into the overcast sky.

Joey's apartment was after the nearest light and down half a block. It sat half-way up a red brick building with white balconies.

He spotted Henry staring up at the building and cleared his throat. "Come on."

"Is this building new? It's in excellent condition."

"No. It was built about twenty years ago. I just have a decent landlord." Joey led Henry inside and to the elevator. He pressed the button for the third floor.

His door was the first on the right, and it had a crisp sheet of paper framed and hung on it.

Henry was backing away from it. "I thought you gave up magic?"

"It's one of the wards I told you about." Joey pointed at the spiky, zig-zagging characters running down the sheet. "It says _ndets_. It's a very strong way of claiming the apartment as mine against a demon."

Henry hung back, eyes still on the sign. They were still a human blue, but that low growl coming from his throat and causing the ceramics in the hall to clatter was anything but. Of course. If there was anything demonic inside him, it would be having a hard time.

Joey beckoned him toward the door. "_Nden._ Come on in."

They entered into an orange living room with a puke-yellow couch and round, glass-topped coffee table. Joey rolled slowly over his shag rug and invited Henry to take a seat.

The two of them talked for a bit. They tried to start light, with topics like tools of the trade and cartoons they loved when they were children, but the conversation fell flat.

Eventually, Henry sighed. He took a letter from his pocket and handed it to Joey.

Joey skimmed it, trying to hide what he was sure was a nervous twitch that grew the more he read. At the end, he peeked over its top.

Henry had a notepad out and a stub pencil and was yanking his hair with his free hand as his dominant one drew the same cartoon demon, a character named Bendy, apparently, over again in his book.

Bendy wasn't moving.

"I don't think you're right that he's a result of you being possessed." Joey scooted closer to the page, where Henry was drawing a boulder above his latest Bendy. "Looks like a strong creative burst. What can you tell me about him?"

Henry shrugged. "He's a demon."

At least now he had a way to keep Henry's mind off things while he tried to learn more about this latest development. "I'll look into this. Why don't you stay here and get a grasp on Bendy?"

"How do I do something like that?"

From the looks of things, Henry's pages were already close to full, but he might have something he could use. He asked him to hang on a moment and looked around his apartment.

All he could find were two voodoo dolls on a shelf above the Ink Machine. He had Henry come reach them for him.

Henry frowned at the dolls. "Aren't these-"

"If you're not binding anyone's soul to them, they act like normal dolls. They might not be as helpful for poses as a modeling doll, but you can use them as props as you put your character through some scenario. Pretend the other one's Scratch, and he caught Bendy on his front lawn or something."

Raising a brow, Henry asked, "You want me to play with dolls?"

Joey reached for a button on the Ink Machine.

Henry made a sound behind him, but when Joey turned, Henry was rushing from the closet.

Right. The demon could probably smell the souls housed in here.

He refocused on the machine. Once the interface was loaded, he found Luke eating cartoon hot dogs inside the machine and asked him to get the Storyteller. He presented Henry's handwritten list of trouble to him, but his dad couldn't remember how strong a sealed demon would have to be to produce such a list – or at least the items on it that Henry assumed the demon inside him was responsible for.

_Support his soul, teach him Demontongue, and get that book back_ – that was his dad's advice. In the meantime – and this was just an idea of Joey's – but in the meantime, he could check for any curses the demon stalking Henry might have left through that spider. Forcing a smile onto his face, he went to check on him.

Henry was tossing down two slightly-glowing dolls. "I didn't mean to."

Joey picked the dolls up. "Could be your demon. If he really ate Ruth, these would have to be old souls of his. They should have the names on them somewhere."

One had a name he didn't recognize, but it wasn't exactly a human name: _goat breath_ – that was the translation. And the other? _Bendy._

He blinked. "If you had to rename Bendy, what would you name him?"

"I don't know, _Shorty_ or something."

Joey watched the name on the doll change from _Bendy _to _Shorty_ and back. "Do you have a grasp of who he is?"

"No. Joey, why is the doll glowing? It's Bendy, isn't it?" Henry plopped back on the sofa. "It's a funny type of creative block, isn't it? I have a million ways I think I can draw Bendy, but I want him out of my head so I can move on to a safe project."

Joey set the dolls on his coffee table. "Did your dad have a magic book? _The Illusion of Humanity_?"

"That storybook? Mom sold it years ago after she found out that our nightmares were because of dad's bedtime stories."

Storybook? What sort of stories?

He asked if Henry remembered any story with a sealed demon, but the only story he remembered was the one with the demons who attempted to pass themselves off as Martians. Henry grimaced as he mentioned it.

"We'll have to get our hands on a copy, but in the meantime, are you sure you won't see an exorcist?"

Henry swallowed. "Do you think I'll survive something like that after being bonded with a demon this long?"

"Survive?"

Clearly, Henry knew more than he was letting on, but he didn't elaborate.

Joey waited for a moment in case he started talking, but he didn't. "I won't send you to an exorcist until I know more about what's going on with you. But you've got to let me help you in any other way I can, no questions asked. Try to keep that demon under control."

Henry smiled. "Deal."

And so Joey suggested a nap for Henry to get ideas for other characters. He excused himself to the kitchen to make a cup of chamomile tea, but if he held his hand above the finished product and hissed a spell under his breath, it wasn't like Henry could see it through the wall.

He promised his dad he wouldn't do magic again, but if it put that demon inside Henry asleep long enough to get a better idea of what its magic was, that couldn't hurt anything, right?

* * *

_Next time:_

_The horrors of chocolate._

_Question of the week:_

_How do you feed a soul?_


	7. Chapter 5

_Last time:_

_Joey consults the Storyteller about Henry, who is spending the rest of his workday shaken up about the magic in Joey's office. A spider starts talking to Henry in Demontongue, but it leaves the moment Joey shows up._

_Joey takes Henry to his apartment, where he has Henry play with voodoo dolls while he decides on a course of action, which ends up being to put Henry to sleep for examination._

* * *

Chapter 5

In Which Henry Eats Chocolate

* * *

Joey Drew Sr had a hard time giving up his magic, so for more than fifteen years, Joey grew up with Demontongue used in his home. The language's hisses and growls, its spikes and shapes, all of it was familiar to him. He wasn't quite a native speaker, but he was good enough to be surprised when he leaned toward a sleeping Henry to ask the demon inside him if the spider had caused any trouble with the "vessel," and Henry responded with a flinch.

"No more of that language, please."

It was Henry's own voice coming from his mouth too.

Joey pinched his nose. "Who am I speaking to?"

"My name is Hennereh."

Except it wasn't _Henner_ _eh_ that the demon said – it was just an unusual accent, as though the demon were pronouncing it with some mix of its own strange dialect of Demontongue and a spot-on attempt to come across as a native English speaker like its host: the demon's name was Xnmr, meaning "breath" and a foul-smelling demonic delicacy made with fresh goat tongues and topped with a wet, slimy, black mold.

Joey narrowed his eyes. He reached for the warm voodoo dolls blindly, patting the cold glass of his coffee table until he found them. "Most demons give a self-important title when someone asks who they are."

Xnmr said nothing to that.

Joey checked the voodoo dolls. They still had the names on them, so he pressed a finger into Xnmr's doll's chest and watched Henry.

He started coughing. Joey took his finger off. "Why would you give me your real name?"

Once again, Xnmr didn't answer.

Joey leaned closer. "With your real name, I can make you go along with any magic I want to do, you know."

He was close enough to see saliva drip from Henry's mouth. His tongue licked it from his lips. "Smells good. Gimme."

"_Yaass!_"

Henry grabbed at Joey. Riiiiippp!

Joey got away, but not without his collar being torn by Henry's fingers. Loose thread tickled his hand when he felt for the damage.

Growling, Henry grabbed again, but Joey was out of range. He fell _thunk_ onto the carpet. When he pushed himself up, he met Joey's eyes.

His were still blue.

* * *

Not much could make Henry's mouth water faster than the warm scent of baking chocolate brownies. A waft of it tickled his nostrils, but he couldn't find the goodies the first time he reached toward the smell. The second time, he fell off the couch and opened his eyes.

His stomach ached for those brownies.

When he sat up, he saw Joey sitting there, shirt shredded at the collar. Henry felt something soft in his hand and lifted it up to see it. Bits of white that matched Joey's shirt were there, in his _pointed? Clawed?_ Fingers.

He swallowed. "Can I have some of that comfort food before you break the bad news?"

"Henry, is that you?"

"Yeah." As he got to his feet, he got another noseful of the chocolate scent and realized the source. His stomach lurched. His hands flew to his mouth and touched down on clammy skin.

"Sit down. You're shaking."

Was he? Not that surprising, if his fellow human beings were treats to him now, even the live ones. He plopped down on the couch. "I quit." He clenched his fists and glared at them. What had his demon done now? "I've got to stay far away from people until you can figure out how to get this thing out of me."

"_Xnmr._"

Ice ran down Henry's spine. His muscles tensed, and his neck turned against his will. He found his mouth opening. "What?"

"_K'ismukgl!_"

Henry stared at him. "Are you doing magic?"

He quickly regretted opening his mouth. It was watering again, so he hid it behind a hand. He peeked at Joey.

Joey was gawking, brows raised, eyes wide, lips mouthing something that Henry couldn't make out; but he shut his mouth and nodded. "I learned your demon's true name. It's _Xnmr_."

That same shiver ran down Henry's spine again.

Joey apologized. "It's that and the voodoo doll that has me so certain it's the demon's real name, but most demons aren't able to withstand requests after you speak their true name like that. I don't know what else to do to help you with him in the moment." He titled his head. "Can you still smell me, or is he just making your mouth water?"

Henry sniffed. Chocolate. He clenched his eyes. "Is this going to happen every time Hennereh finds someone he wants to eat?"

Joey's lips were flat. His eyes were narrow. "You didn't trip up on that name."

"My dad had a nickname for all his children." Henry put his face in his hands. "That was mine. Are you telling me he was never talking to me after all?"

There was a beat. Henry wasn't sure he wanted to know what that meant, but he peeked at Joey anyway.

He was green. "All of you?"

Henry nodded. "Susie's was Sushiek, and Allison's was Allie. _Allie_ is normal enough, isn't it?"

"What was he planning?" But despite speaking, Joey was turning his chair and starting to wheel toward the kitchen.

Henry stared at his palms. They were red and sweaty, but his fingers were back to normal. Not that he could even guess how that worked. Wiping his palms, Henry called after Joey, "Is it that bad?"

"I think I've got a bit of chocolate somewhere, leftover from last Halloween, but it should satisfy that demon for a half hour or so. Don't try this too often."

Joey disappeared behind the wall, but this time, Henry got up and followed him. "Why not? What's it going to do?"

"There are a few human foods that make demons stronger. If you're going to eat any, you're going to have to make him a deal each time that will get him to leave you and everyone else alone, and I'm really going to have to think on how to do that." Joey opened a cupboard, where a brown plastic wrapping was poking out from the top shelf. "Could you get that for me?"

Henry pulled it down, but what made him drool was, once again, getting too close to Joey. He made himself swallow.

Joey was pulling out a mini-Hershey's bar. He offered it to Henry.

The moment Henry reached for it, Joey closed his hand and yanked him closer to his mouth by his hair. Henry's scalp protested. _"Wiyuuem xe, xnmr? Xenrits!"_

"Owowow! What are you _doin'?_ Stop!"

Joey dug his fingers in deeper. _"Xenrits! T'it'lxm swii xenrits, gakruuss."_

He thrust Henry to the floor, where a shiver escaped him.

The chocolate was thrown onto the floor beside Henry, who popped it into his mouth. It melted on top of his tongue, where it coated it thick, sweet, and – he reminded himself – guilt-free. Henry opened the cupboard under the sink and flicked the wrapper into the trash before he blinked at Joey.

He took a deep breath. The chocolate scent was still there, but it was faded to a tolerable level. "What was that about?"

Joey held out a hand for him. "It is you this time, isn't it?"

"It was me last time you asked too." Henry took the hand. "Really, what was that about?"

"Those nicknames." Joey shook his head. "You pronounced the Demontongue the same way your demon did. I thought it had taken control, so I gave it some candy for you to have five-and-a-half days of freedom."

He crossed his arms and told himself to breathe, not to kill Joey for getting into magic _again_, and not to kill Joey for hinting at something strange about his dad. "I pronounced the names the same way my dad did, mostly."

Joey rested a hand on his arm. "That's the other thing. Why do you and the twins have names so similar to demon names? It's like your dad was planning to seal specific demons inside you since before you were born."

He what?

Henry knew that Joey gave him something to help him – a paper with some sort of writing on it. In English, not that demonic script hanging on his front door. But he couldn't really say what went on the rest of the visit.

His mind kept running back to his childhood, to all the times he thought his dad might have loved him and all the times his dad had done something odd. Should he have known something earlier?

The chocolate only lasted a bit. By the time Joey was showing him out the door, Henry's nostrils were burning again. The bus ride home was much worse – Henry was clinging to a pole to keep his hands off the temptuous feast around him. His fingers dented the metal, and once after he spoke to a man who apologized to him for bumping into him with a suitcase, the little girl with the man looked up at him and asked, "Daddy, why does that man have sharp teeth?"

Henry kept his mouth shut until he was safely in his apartment. He ran to the mirror and looked in his mouth.

Whatever the little girl saw, he didn't see it. He wished he could just dismiss it, even after the incident with the claws. Instead, he ran his tongue over his teeth, trying to notice if any of them were extra sharp.

He pushed the bathroom door. It slammed into the wall, leaving a mark where the knob was.

He'd have to deal with it later. "Only one thing to do: press on. Let's see what it is Joey told you to do."

So he went and got the paper Joey sent him home with and looked it over. It had a few words to speak to his demon, things like _my body_ and _not our soul_. It listed foods to avoid and things to do to keep his demon weak and his own soul strong. The best option right now? To draw.

Henry got out his notebook and drew Bendy to late in the night. Around one in the morning, the little devil started twitching, but that was because he was tired, right?

* * *

Henry's next day of work was normal for once, if you didn't count a small incident where that rich guy with the fancy car came in to ask Joey to commission a cartoon, only for the ink in every pen in Joey's office to suddenly run dry. He and Joey weren't sure it wasn't a normal mishap anyway.

When he got home, he was greeted with his personal sketchbook and lots of sketches of Bendy. For a while, he was in a good mood.

And then his phone rang.

"Hello?"

On the other end of the line was a voice he thought he'd never hear again: deep but nasally and slick as wet tar. "Hello, Xnmr."

There was that crawl on his spine again. He growled. He cracked the phone's casing with his grip. "How did you get my number?"

"Friend of mine went to that studio of yours today."

Was he talking about that rich guy? How did his dad end up friends with someone like him, anyway? Did he impress him with his magic? "Yeah?"

"He noticed you seem to be having some… _special…_ problems."

"Oh, and of course you know about them!" Henry glared at an abandoned spiderweb on his window. "What do I do about the _demon_ you put inside me?"

"Just wanted to give you two bits of advice: 1) try speaking to control the magic-"

"I don't speak Demontongue!"

There was some chuckling on the other end, his dad's distinctive _ki-kik_. "You think I meant Demontongue? No, try English!"

If he was being logical, English was worth a try. It was easier than trying to wrap his tongue around those consonants Joey gave him for some of his vocabulary items anyway. He made himself loosen his grip before he destroyed his phone. He took a breath. "What do you want?"

"Look, I know I wasn't as considerate of my family as all the other dads you saw as a child-"

Understatement of the year.

"-but there were always things I wanted for you. Your current magic situation was not one of them."

His fingers scratched through his pants pocket and into his leg. He flinched. "Then why did you seal Xnmr inside me?"

"I didn't."

Henry noised his disbelief. "Then what did you do with Xnmr?"

"I planted a seed of greatness with him."

He snorted.

"Do you want the magic accidents to stop happening or not?"

Of course he did, but even Joey was more trustworthy. Henry started pacing the three feet between his kitchen counter and the window, slowing once to swat the web down. "Did you happen to get-"

"That's a yes."

Henry scowled.

"Great! Point one I've already told you about. Point two, don't correct anyone that your name is Xnmr when they call you Henry. In fact, keep going with Henry and never share your real name with anyone."

He blinked. "My name is-"

"Course it is. My firstborn needed a fitting name."

The line went dead. Henry threw the phone on the receiver. "My name is Xnmr? _My _name is Xnmr? Did you mean for the demon to eat your own son?"

He went back to his sketchbook. "Alright, Bendy. Do what Joey says you will and help me keep my soul."

* * *

He was so, so sleepy. His mind was fuzzy, but he felt someone – something? – stroke his arms. There was a voice too – deep and rhythmic.

Syllables tucked themselves around him like a baby's blanket, but he didn't know what they meant. He could hardly pick them out.

But there was one set that was slower than the others and spoken with warmth: _Bendy_. Was that him? Was he Bendy?

Bendy let himself fall back asleep.

* * *

_Next time:_

_A demon dances._

_Question of the week:_

_Why would Xnmr tell Joey his true name?_


	8. Chapter 6

_Last time:_

_Joey and Henry learn that the demon's name is Xnmr and take measures to keep it under control. Henry's father calls him with some suggestions to help him with magic, but Henry is suspicious of his motives. As Henry is drawing Bendy to strengthen his own soul, Bendy gains awareness._

* * *

Chapter 6

In Which a Page is Missing

* * *

Henry was sick. Henry was nauseous. It was a side-effect of eating a human soul obviously, but did it have to flare up the moment he got to work?

* * *

Joey spent the next morning working Bendy into their upcoming movie. He gave him the role that was previously Edgar's – a guide for Alice while she's in hell. There was just a bit of trouble piecing things together – why would a demon like Bendy help an angel out of there?

Maybe he should get Henry to tell him anything he knew about Bendy's backstory. He wheeled down the wide hallway, into the elevator, and through the animation cubicles, where he greeted Henry with a smile and checked up on his demon situation.

Other than a disturbing phone call from his brother-in-law, not much had happened, no. What was more worrying was the green tint to Henry's face and the bags under his eyes.

Joey asked his questions, but he couldn't go back to work. Not with the way Henry kept covering his nose. He put a hand on Henry's arm. "Do you still smell it?"

"Yes."

How? Joey used Xnmr's real name and everything. He swallowed. "Work emergency. Obviously, we can't put out a lot of episodes on VHS unless we have material to pull from. I'm going out to get ideas. Fables. Histories." He paused. "Storybooks. Any ideas where to look?"

Henry closed his eyes. "It's a big city."

Maybe he'd have to stop by his apartment on the way back then. He turned his chair, but a strong hand wrapped around his wrist.

"I do have one idea: if it was important enough for my dad to steal in the first place, he might have gotten it back from the store."

Joey smiled. "Great. How can I get in touch with your dad?"

But Henry didn't know. All he could tell Joey was the name of the man Joey met briefly at his sister's wedding, and whose name was promptly forgotten: Caesar Ross.

* * *

Henry had to go to the men's room twice during the day to throw up, but he couldn't afford a sick day now, could he? He threw himself into the ideas Joey left for him.

First, a VHS cover with a dancing Alice – and for a joke, he drew a dancing Bendy on a bit of scrap paper. Next, a full character drawing of his little demon to be introduced to the studio as a whole. Finally, some possible posters for advertising their VHS series.

Some were easy enough. One was mostly sun and clouds with Alice descending from the corner. Another was a deviation from one of his hellish backgrounds with Scratch laughing front and center.

Then some required a little more work.

There was one in particular that he had to keep redesigning to get a better picture of: a poster idea that Joey was using to get a better grasp on their latest character – _Bendy and the Alchemist's Secret._ It didn't help matters that he kept finding Bendy in positions he didn't remember drawing. At one point, he leaned forward and tested his father's advice about speaking English. Well, whispering in English. "If the demon possessing me made you, I want you to drop dead right now."

Nothing happened.

He sat back. "I must be seeing things. Didn't get enough sleep or something."

Or so he kept telling himself.

* * *

Joey took a cab to the nearest shopping district, where his first stop was a tall phone booth off the side of the sidewalk. It was a squeeze to get in there with his chair, but he managed.

Now to find Caesar Ross.

He took the thick volume in his hands and flipped to the middle. The top of the page started with a number for a Piedmont, B. A spider crawled out from the far end of the phone booth.

He dropped the book, which flipped back several pages. Narrowing his eyes, he asked, "Are you one of those spiders?"

But the spider just crawled along. He flicked it off and turned his attention back to the phone book.

There was a page torn out of it, its remnants running jagged between the page ending with _Drake, S and C_ and _Durham, J.R._ He frowned. "D. r…. I really hope it wasn't me someone was looking for."

His stomach churned. Maybe he would check his apartment, even if Caesar had the book. In the meantime, he turned to the entry for _Ross, C _. and wrote the number down.

He dialed, but there was no answer. He supposed Caesar had to be at work at the moment.

Instead of checking the shops, he headed home. He examined the ward on his front door, but it hung there as undisturbed as ever. Same with the additional wards inside his apartment and around the Ink Machine.

Still, it was better to be safe than sorry.

To make another ward, he had a tip to follow from his old man – reinforce the refusal by mixing a drop of his own blood and a drop of his own tears with the ink he used to make the ward. He got out his calligraphy kit from his nightstand, poured a small amount of ink out, ready to use, and took it to the kitchen.

He collected his tears first by chopping up an onion and then wiping his eyes. Then he cut himself on the kitchen knife. He mixed up the ink and started writing.

_Tsae. Yasunskikuski skrum jowidruski. _

Stop looking the Ink Machine and Joey Drew.

He bandaged himself up, and spent the rest of the day fruitlessly trying to track down _The Illusion of Humanity _. He didn't try calling Caesar again until evening.

This time, Caesar answered. There was a strange sound on the other end of the line, somewhere between a growl and a purr. "To whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?"

Joey's skin crawled. "You're a creep, you know that? No wonder my sister wasn't happy about being married to you."

"You're that idiot's son, correct?" Caesar started giggling. "I should thank you for giving my son a job, but there's a riddle I can't stop thinking of: I am just as stupid as my father, turn a blind eye to the public opinion of cartoons, and have all the magical skill of a dead fish. Who am I? I'm you!"

His grip tightened on the handle and it took all his discipline not to shout at Caesar.

When Caesar finally stopped laughing, he asked, "To what do I owe this call?"

"I'm only calling you for Henry's sake."

Caesar seemed unfazed by the venom in Joey's voice. If anything, his tone was a little amused. "Henry deserves much better than you, _lnmya _."

Lnmya? _Stupid summoner? _Caesar was supposed to leave those sorts of names to the demons, wasn't he? Unless he'd gotten himself possessed.

So if Joey shouted at the man, he was justified, wasn't he?

Caesar cut in the moment Joey stopped for breath. "If you're done, you were calling for Henry."

Joey counted to three. Best get this over with. "We're looking for a copy of _The Illusion of Humanity _."

"Is this about his magic?"

He closed his eyes. Of course someone clever enough to seal a demon in each of his children would see through to what they were really after. It's not that he particularly trusted Caesar, but if he'd cooperate…. "It's about Xnmr."

There was a growl on the other end. "How did you hear that name?"

Joey slammed a palm to his counter. "He is going to kill Henry. How do we control him?"

"Can I tell you something?"

Caesar volunteering information? That was suspicious, but Joey supposed he could use whatever he said, at least as something to disprove. "Okay?"

Caesar darkened his voice and switched to Demontongue. "There is no Henry."

Joey spluttered.

But Caesar went on. "There was only ever a baby named Xnmr, not a baby named Henry…."

Joey held back some profanity. He knew where this was going: he'd given his okay to hear something from Caesar, and now Caesar was describing a state in the world. Next he was going to tell Joey to do something about it, and that was the formula for a level three spell involving the victim's mental state. "I don't agree to you telling me this sort of thing!" He hung up before Caesar could finish his spell.

Once he was calm enough that he was sure he wouldn't yell at Henry too, he dialed Henry's number. The line was busy.

* * *

Henry was cleaning out all the meat in his kitchen, not that he had much to begin with: a few cans of spam , some sardines, and a half-eaten package of hot dogs. As he did so, he was munching on a Joey-approved meal: beans, no pork, and a glass of cow's milk.

He wished he could have that pork.

He was about to check the ingredients in his canned soups when the phone rang. He answered.

"I just had the strangest conversation with Joey Drew."

It was his dad. Henry chucked some beef stew in the trash with more force than necessary. "Is there a reason you're calling?"

"Joey Drew knows your true name."

He wished he could throw his father in the trash can too. He made due by dropping another can of beef stew in there. "Do you have the book or not?"

"There wasn't anything in there about you, but if you get Drew to forget your real name, I'll give you a better book."

Henry frowned. He must have been silent too long, because his dad followed up with a question about his magic. With a grumble in his voice, he said, "I tried speaking English to control it. I don't know if it did anything or not."

His father chuckled. "Give it a try right now then. Find something you want done and put some power behind it."

Was it really okay to do that?

"It's alright. It's _your _magic. If you're not going to benefit from it, who is?"

"It's Xnmr's magic, isn't it?"

"And you're Xnmr. Why do you and Joey keep acting like there are two people inside you?"

Henry spluttered. He heard his father laughing as he tried to pull his thoughts together. What did his father mean _like _there were two people inside him?

Eventually, he was able to get the words out of his mouth.

"I told you not to tell anyone your real name. Names have power. Yours was my gift to you." His father's tone softened. "It's only you in that body. You, my special baby born with magic. Step up and enjoy it, and don't let Joey Drew go spreading your name around. Make him forget."

Once again, it was his father who hung up. Henry was left staring at the receiver. Even if any of what his father said could be trusted, why was he left with more questions than answers?

He had to call Joey.

Joey told him such a thing as being born with magic was impossible, but he did want him to come to his office the next morning. He did. He had to swallow down the scent of not just the brownies, but a baked chicken now as well, but he did.

Joey came around in front of his desk and had Henry himself stay where he was. The overhead lights shone down and gave his hair an almost holy glow, which Henry tore his eyes away from when the man looked up at him. "Do you trust me?"

He did. More than he trusted his father anyway, so he agreed.

"I think that English thing might be dead on. If it is, I'll be bringing your demon in control of your body for a bit. It might be a bit scary, but I'll have you back in control in a minute."

Henry nodded.

Joey flattened his lips. "I'm modifying our deal a little, Xnmr: you'll give Henry back once I'm done with you, but for now, show your true self."

Unbidden, Henry's mouth opened. "This is who I am." Heart pounding, he twitched his fingers experimentally. They responded. He ran his thumb over his fingertips, but there were no claws. He ran his tongue over his teeth, but there were no fangs. "Joey, was my body supposed to change?"

He shook his head. "Never mind. It didn't work."

It didn't work? But then why did Henry speak when Joey told him to show his true self? He watched Joey gather up some things and noted the disappointed look on his face.

Joey sent a smile his way. "We'll get this dealt with. I promise. I'll be looking for that book again today. Just get back to Bendy."

That sounded good to Henry. Without so much as wishing Joey luck, Henry went to his desk. After glancing around to see that he wouldn't be observed, he took out Bendy's full character sketch, in which the little demon was hiding something behind his back. He whispered, "Dance for me, Bendy."

He blinked. When he opened his eyes, Bendy had a white cane in his hand, and his feet were posed halfway through a tap routine. He grinned and got to work.

Just a few minutes later, he stumbled toward the nearest trash can, hand covering his mouth, and stomach pushing his breakfast up violently.

* * *

_Next time:_

_Secret children._

_Question of the week:_

_How does Caesar really feel about Henry?_


	9. Chapter 7

_Last time:_

_Henry's sick, so Joey goes looking for The Illusion of Humanity with no success. Both of them are on the phone with Caesar Ross that evening._

_CYI endings used: Chapter 233_

_Cheat path:_

_1 Know you've got to turn on the Ink Machine in the other room_  
_2 Climb an elevator shaft_  
_3 Look for more messages_  
_4 See a message about living worthy of the chances you're given_  
_5 Follow the link_  
_6 Growl_  
_7 Hand Henry the Seeing Tool_  
_8 Find a circle in the middle of the pentagram._

* * *

Chapter 7

In Which Dreams Come to Life

* * *

It wouldn't last long, but it was becoming routine: Joey would get to the studio, check on production and dish out instructions, and head to his office to file things before he headed out in search of "source material." It was the case that day too.

But that day, he paused to flip his wall calendar – the studio's own version, one picture of a character for every month. It went from September's hero-posed Woolly the Sheep to October's Gutsy the Skeleton climbing from a coffin. As he did so, he caught sight of a day circled in blue – _Luther #3._

That's right. If he wanted to send something in time for the kid's – Emilio's, supposedly, not his – if he wanted to send something in time for the kid's birthday, he'd have to mail it no later than the next morning.

He didn't have a gift. "She never told me – do you like picture books?"

The calendar couldn't answer of course, especially not for his son, but Joey assumed a _yes_ when he went out to town that day. There were only two stores left in town for him to search before he had to switch to another approach, so surely he could pick up a book for his son while he was out and about?

The first was a pawn shop that left no space between its disorganized, overflowing shelves for Joey's wheelchair. He had to call the shop owner over and ask if the book happened to have come through there, but the owner – a woman with tiny eyes and far too many beads around her neck – gave him a funny look, as though she knew what sort of person would be looking for _The Illusion of Humanity_. She claimed he was scaring off customers and told him to get out before she called the cops. The other was a used bookstore that smelled like old paper and pine needles.

Joey checked the non-fiction section first. It wasn't there. He tried his luck in the fantasy section next. No stolen book there either, but there was an old copy of _The Tales of King Arthur_ there – simplified for children.

With a smile, he took the bent spine in his hand and examined the torn pages. Nothing a bit of scotch tape wouldn't fix.

* * *

While Joey was out looking at books, Henry was sitting at his desk, head drooping lower throughout the day. He sketched out a shape that Joey showed him the other day, an alchemy symbol for his poster.

He blinked. Was it just him, or had Bendy's eyes moved?

No, they were back where they belonged.

He didn't have much time to think about it anyway because he had to run to the bathroom to puke again. It was always at work. Why was it always at work?

Or so he wished.

When he got home that day and got out the peanut butter for his sandwiches, the spread reminded him of mud in both color and smell. The first bite of his sandwich tasted like it too – mud, mixed with slime, ash, and way too much salt.

He spat it out, threw his sandwiches away, and went to bed hungry and shaky that night. He dreamed of a palace filled with crawling bits of steak that he snatched from the walls and from mid-air.

When he woke up the next morning, he there was a juicy, meaty taste in his mouth that had him smiling. Or at least until he got to the bathroom and found spider legs stuck between his teeth.

Swallowing, he leaned closer to the mirror. "Was that you, Xnmr?"

There was no answer.

"Great. Now I've got to tell Joey that my demon got up for a midnight snack without me knowing." He reached for the floss, and a minute later, he had the spider legs out.

But there was one more thing to do. "Show me your fangs so I'm sure there's nothing else."

Nothing happened. At least not in his apartment, but with the way people were staring at him on the bus, he was sure something was showing.

The moment he arrived at the studio, he headed to the men's room. His usual skin and teeth reflected back at him. And then, "Hello, Henry."

He spun around. Lowering from a piece of silk was the biggest spider he'd ever seen – one with fuzzy brown legs and a red ring around its head. Could such a spider naturally exist?

He backed into the wall. "I've had enough with the talking spiders!"

"You are hungry, aren't you?"

The spider landed on the grimy tiles and started walking toward him on unusually meaty legs. Why did it have to remind him of his dream last night?

"No." But his stomach growled.

"An exchange: you tell me about that deal you made with Ruth, and I'll let you eat this spider."

Henry ran from the bathroom. "Joey!"

He slipped on the brown tiles and caught himself, left palm on the cold metal door frame. His stomach churned. He heaved into the trash can.

And then a headache – throbbing pressure as though on the inside of his skull. It felt as though the center of his brain was about to explode.

For a moment, he was back in Joey's office the day Ruth showed up. He was trembling on the floor, and Ruth's ghost was extending a hand toward him. "Let me explain it a different way: I'll make you a meal if you take care of my killer."

He supposed he did owe Ruth that much if his demon ate his soul. So squeezing the plastic liner in the can, he asked, "Why are you so interested in Ruth anyway?"

"I'm not. I want to know about the demon he summoned. Your father made some interesting claims."

What was this? A chance to learn more of what his father was up to? No, Henry doubted a spider – or whoever was controlling it – was any more trustworthy than his old man. Maybe even less. "No deal."

The lights cut out. A large, furry leg brushed Henry's side.

He yelped. He felt for the door and pushed his way into the bright hall.

The spider squeezed through after him – it _squeezed_ through because it had grown to twice Henry's size.

Henry ran.

Pincers dug into his ankle.

He hissed. He turned.

There – between the spider's two sets of eyes – what was that? It was just a drop. The darker red didn't even stand out much against the monster's ring, but he smelt it. It smelled faintly like a cross of vinegar and sulfur.

He slashed at it. His claws raked across the spider's face.

The spider released him, but it didn't shrink back.

Henry wobbled to his feet. His feet threatened to give out under him, legs screaming as though the blood in his veins was delivering needles rather than oxygen.

His whole body felt that way. And he was hot. So hot.

But the spider was charging him again.

Henry grabbed its head and bit into its flesh.

The head popped off and the whole corpse shrunk to normal size, where it burnt to a crisp and scattered across the floor.

Henry was laughing even as the hall too went dark.

* * *

When Joey got back from his last unproductive day of local book-hunting, the Art Department's gofer caught him in the entrance.

Buddy.

It was a wonder the kid didn't stumble as he lanked over to him on those long legs of his. "Everyone's been hoping you'd get back soon. It's Henry. He passed out. We didn't know what to do."

What?

Joey demanded Buddy take him to Henry, so he followed him to the break room.

Henry was sitting there on a lime green couch, surrounded by hovering employees – Dave and Ritchie from the Art Department, Wally and Norman, and even Thomas Connor.

The last one made sense, actually – he was asking Wally something about a giant web causing maintenance issues.

When Joey rolled further into the room, he saw a large pile of bacon soup cans, the type that wouldn't sell, lying empty on the floor. Another six were on the table, and Henry was gulping them down like shots. He reached for another one.

"Put that down!"

"Cut him some slack! The guy just passed out from low blood sugar or whatever earlier."

Or so Wally said, but that started an argument: was it that Henry hadn't been eating or that Henry had been bitten? Poisoned?

Henry put the can down, but only after he finished drinking. At least he had the good sense to look sheepish. "He just saved my life. I figured I owed him lunch. Was that bad?"

"Who?" Wally asked.

Joey shooed his other employees out of the break room with the promise of a bonus for their noble actions. When he was certain they were alone, he placed a hand on Henry's shoulder. "What happened?"

Henry told him, and as he listened, he frowned. It was uncharacteristic of a demon to save a vessel they were sealed inside, so what was Xnmr thinking? "Be careful. Demons can be manipulative. He might have something up his sleeve he needs you for."

If Xnmr wasn't the one demon whose true name didn't work on him, Joey would have demanded he spell it out directly. As it were, he could only examine Henry's wound – or the ankle where it was supposed to be anyway. It was skin and scars. Old. Like they happened years ago.

He pressed a finger against it. "You were bitten today?"

Henry didn't answer.

When Joey glanced at him, he found him green. He had little choice but to send Henry home for the day on the advice to stick to the demon starve-out plan.

He himself left the studio again – even if he couldn't find _The Illusion of Humanity_, there had to be another book to explain what was going on with Henry, right?

* * *

Henry forced himself to smile when Joey told him to stick to his diet. He knew Joey meant well, but he felt much better after the bacon soup. Calmer. More energetic.

Besides, he didn't want to wake up and discover that Xnmr had eaten another nasty.

On the bus, he took the last seat in the back and checked his pocketbook to see how much he could spend on food before it would set him back in replacing his car.

He had enough for a pound of hamburger. If he ate bits of it over the week, maybe it would be enough.

His dinner that night consisted of charred toast and a slice of under-cooked meat. He sat at his table, a pen in his hand, and an empty lined page in front of him. "Okay, Xnmr, let's talk. I don't want to be involved with anything bad, but if you're willing to help people, then let's work together to make life good for the both of us. Tell me what you need."

Silence.

The silence grew into a pause that made Henry feel stupid, as though he were truly talking to himself. He took another bite to fill the silence.

The meat and the toast mixed together into crunchy juicy goodness.

When he swallowed, Xnmr was still silent.

"Dad wasn't telling the truth, was he? Is Xnmr my name?"

Again, Henry's demon was silent, but he knew why – if he spoke in Joey's office without transforming, but he could grow claws and everything…. "What do I call you?"

Nothing. The demon said nothing.

Henry needed a phone book. He borrowed one from his neighbors long enough to look up his dad's number, then he went back to his own apartment to willingly call the man.

And he said the same thing he'd said the last couple times: _Xnmr_ was Henry's true name – a gift from him, and the magic Henry was experiencing was his own. The moment Henry got off the phone, he sat at his empty plate. "Let's go for two out of two." He gathered the crumbs into a pile in the middle of his plate. "Become a steak for me."

The crumbs did.

Magic. And maybe… no demonic consequences, despite what Joey said?

* * *

Once again, Joey changed his routine – sure he was still looking for books, but now he was checking on Henry first.

He found Henry humming and smiling at the poster he was working on. No trembling. No green face.

Still, he asked, "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I have in a while." Henry accompanied his words with a grin, but the grin was full of sharp white fangs.

He gulped. "Who am I talking to?"

"Joey, it's me. Why are you asking?"

He glanced around the room and leaned toward him. Couldn't do to get people thinking the wrong thing about his nephew could it? "Check your teeth."

Henry blinked. It was almost comical to watch – a pause, then his eyes went wide.

Blue. Still blue. The most telling transformation Joey had yet to observe.

"Teeth." Henry paused again. Then he smiled with a full human set of pearly whites. "Better?"

Joey stared at him. He hadn't found his voice by the time Henry flinched and swallowed something down.

It couldn't be. "Do you mean the reason you've been sick is that you've been performing magic in my studio?"

"Come to think of it, I guess so. Someone has anyway."

Demons? Sure, they were evil. They were to blame for a lot of things. But for someone summoning one in the first place? For doing magic in the first place? "You promised."

"I'm sorry. Yeah, I've done some. Only trying to get it under control." Henry's tone was soft, and that face? Was it that he was telling the truth, or was he a lot better at playing innocent than Joey expected him to be? "Are you going to ask me to leave?"

That was the question, wasn't it? What to do with him.

This wasn't going to be easy, was it?

He gulped. "You're my last living relation, but I…."

How to phrase this?

"Do you want me to stop?" Henry's hand squeezed his shoulders. "I'm doing my best!"

It wasn't what Joey wanted to ask. Well, it was, but not entirely. "We have the worst luck, don't we? You, with a demon you can't control, and me with… family, I guess you'd say. My absent mother, my distant sister, my formerly-bad example of a father, my tough-luck ex-fiancee, my creepy brother-in-law – no offense, and-"

"Ex-fiancee?"

His heart panged. He hadn't meant to bring her up. She just slipped from his mouth. And now? Now, Henry was raising an eyebrow at him like he thought what? That his demon-summoning drove her off? That he went off the deep end in her absence?

Or maybe not, if he was into magic himself. Regardless, it was time to change the topic. "Her family split us up, but that's not the point! The point is, I don't _want_ to give up on you. Come to my office?"

He didn't really, but he'd have to let someone down if Henry was doing magic: either Henry or his father. He curled his fingers around his armrest, silently begging not to have to make the choice.

* * *

Henry told the truth, but he didn't think Joey believed him.

On the bright side, at least he wasn't fired. Still, when he went back to his desk, he mumbled into his work, "I wish I could talk to someone who understands what I'm going through. Someone I know is good."

He did try. He couldn't practice magic when Joey was around, but was it so bad if it was just to increase his control over it? At home at least it wouldn't make him as nauseous.

It seemed to work for a few days – only minor magic incidents that he hid from Joey – breaking pens and the like.

And then, one day, just after Joey checked up on him, he was focused on his work, moving his pen across the crisp paper with a _scratch, scratch, scratch_. He was almost done drawing a beaker spilling out on Bendy, in fact, when he saw movement from the corner of his eye: he knew for a fact that he hadn't drawn Bendy looking up. He certainly didn't draw a question mark popping into existence over his head.

Like those other drawings.

Henry fell out of his chair, letting out a yelp in the process. He felt sick, but he buried the feeling.

"Everything okay?" Joey called.

He swore to himself. No, Joey. Everything is not alright, but you can't come back here to see it. Magic. Again. Because come to think of it, Henry drew Bendy a lot, and he spoke to him too. Dancing. Wishing for someone to confide in? What if that was what brought him to life?

Henry made himself smile to try to prevent his voice from shaking. "There was a spider." He got to his feet. "Not a 'cute' one like _Edgar_ either. I got it."

And now he was cursing his own stupidity. Spiders? Really?

But Joey didn't come back. And Bendy? Bendy was looking up at him with big, wide eyes, biting down on his lip.

A part of him shivered. Creating life? He could do that?

He bent toward him, and his expression was starting to relax. He himself tried to relax by resting his fingers on the side of his desk. "Bendy?"

Bendy grinned, nodded, and mimed giving him a hug.

* * *

_Next time:_

_Nightmares._

_Question of the week:_

_How long can Henry hide Bendy?_


End file.
